


Hard and Fast

by WarlockWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But not too rough so don't worry, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, biker!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter
Summary: Written forwaywardspringchildwho wanted a fic based on the picture below. This was only my second PWP, so I appreciated the prompt and the challenge.





	Hard and Fast

Dean was getting close to the end of his shift at the diner. It had been a long day but good. A chunky roll of bills rested easily in his front pocket. Thoughts of a cold beer at his favorite pub filled his thoughts as he wiped down the long counter top.

Just then, six feet of crackling dark energy entered the diner, and Dean almost dropped his cleaning cloth.

Black and leather was Dean's first impression. So much leather. Tight leather pants that proclaimed _I tuck left_. A high collared jacket over a pale grey Henley. Black leather boots completed the image.

Dean's mouth was dry, and he had to swallow three times before he was able to speak. "Go ahead and sit anywhere you'd like."

The man smiled, teeth feral in the waning afternoon light. He didn't take a table, instead choosing a seat at the counter. Although "choosing a seat" was the wrong way to describe it. Instead, he sprawled on one of the round seats, stretching one long leather-clad leg to prop his booted foot on one the tables across the narrow stretch of floor between counter and booth.

Dean wasn't sure what to say, so he defaulted to his standard "Would you like to see a menu?"

The man turned his head, lazily scanning the counter top. His gaze stopped on the pie under glass. "What kind of pie is that?"

"Cherry," Dean said.

"I'll have a slice."

It wasn't just a statement. The tone bordered on command, and Dean had to force himself not to jump to attention. Instead, he moved slowly and deliberately, taking a plate from behind the counter, cutting a slice just so and placing it in the exact center of the plate. He picked up a wrapped bundle of silverware and slid it and the pie down to the man, who had watched the entire process with amusement.

"My name is Castiel, by the way. But those who know me well call me Cas."

Dean shrugged. He was used to flirtation from customers, and he knew how to deflect it. "Pleased to meet you, Castiel. I'm Dean, just like it says on the name tag." He motioned with his chin to the small piece of plastic pinned to the left side of his shirt.

Castiel nodded and picked up his silverware. He unwrapped it with careful deliberation and took out the fork. His motions were precise and oddly mesmerizing, and Dean remembered that he still had cleaning duties to finish before the end of his shift. He turned to empty the coffee pot before scrubbing it.

"So, Dean, when do you get off?"

Dean stumbled on his way to the sink. He had no doubt the double meaning had been deliberate. He put down the pot and glanced over his shoulder at Castiel.

The man had taken his boots off the booth and had turned to face the counter. He was leaning on his elbows, shoulders forward. He was lifting a forkful of pie to his mouth. He slowly inserted the fork, wrapping his tongue around the pastry and sucking it off the utensil. It should have looked ridiculous, but Dean couldn't drag his gaze away from that tongue. The cherry filling looked like blood on his lips, but somehow that made it more mesmerizing.

"Um." Again he had to swallow a few times before he could speak. What was it about this guy? "My shift ends in just a few minutes."

Had it really been a good idea to admit to that? On the other hand, the sight of that tongue enfolding another bite of pie caused his cock to twitch in his jeans.

Castiel chewed slowly and swallowed. "I'll be waiting for you outside. My bike's parked in the alley."

Really? He didn't even ask. How did he get that confident?

But Dean knew he'd meet him in the alley. How could he not?

He had to go in the back to get the mop and bucket. By the time he came back, Castiel was gone. So was the pie. Beside the plate was a $10 bill, more than enough to cover the cost of the pie and a nice tip. There was also a note in a elegant script. _Don't make me wait long_.

Dean scowled at the note. Who did this guy think he was anyway?

But his cock was still half-hard in his jeans, and he knew he couldn’t resist.

Mopping the floor did nothing for what was in his jeans, and he knew he'd done a half-assed job, but he didn't care. Charles, his relief, finally showed up—ten minutes late as usual—and Dean wasted no time grabbing his bag and walking out the door.

He did consider not going into the alley, for all of maybe ten seconds, but he knew he would.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the corner, not sure what he would find. To his relief, Castiel was there, standing hip shot next to the biggest Harley Dean had ever seen. While he knew cars as well as any mechanic, he only knew enough about bikes to identify it as a Harley.

"Took you long enough," was all Castiel said. His head was held high, his gaze direct, and Dean felt an irresistible pull. He didn’t bother resisting and walked forward, dropping his backpack by the Harley. Then he stood, uncomfortably aware of what he wanted but having no idea how to get it.

Castiel took two steps toward him. Dean met him halfway, wanting to reach out, but something about Castiel was both untouchable and irresistible.

Castiel took Dean by the shoulders, turned him and slammed him into the wall, hard enough to rattle his teeth but not enough to really hurt. One leather-clad arm pinned him by the throat. Dean froze, not sure what to do.

"I wanted you the minute I saw you," Castiel said, his voice whiskey over gravel rough. "And you wanted me, didn't you? I could see it in your eyes."

All Dean could do was nod, feeling smooth leather shift against his throat. He was as hard as he could ever remember.

Castiel leaned in, nipping at Dean's neck. A few of the bites were hard enough to hurt, but he didn't care. He hadn't realized until now that he had a biting kink. He wanted to arch his head back, but he couldn't. Castiel's arm held him too tightly against the wall.

He shifted his hips, trying to find something to grind against, but Castiel shifted away from him. "No. None of that now."

Dean moaned deep in the back of his throat. He desperately wanted some friction, pressure, something. He felt uncomfortably and delightfully constrained in his jeans.  
Castiel traced a heated path down his throat, sucking and nipping as he went. As soon as he reached the neckline, he casually ripped Dean's t-shirt, leaving it hanging from his shoulders. He wanted to protest the treatment of his clothes but then Castiel sucked, hard, on one nipple, and he forgot about his shirt.

Suddenly Castiel pulled away, grabbed Dean roughly by the shoulders and turned them so Dean was now pressing Castiel against the wall. Before he had a chance to process the change in position, Castiel was pushing down on his shoulders, and Dean dropped to his knees.

Now he got it. Those tight leather pants left nothing to the imagination. Again, he wanted to protest the cavalier treatment, but if he was honest with himself, this was all very, very good and would feature prominently in future jerk off fantasies.

With an unsteady hand, he reached up and slowly unzipped Castiel's pants. He enjoyed the little jerking motions the other man made as he made sure to add extra pressure on the zipper.

Hands gripped the side of his head, urging him to get on with it.

Okay. No underwear. Now that was hot.

Dean licked his lips before going down on that magnificent cock. He swirled his tongue around the head, deliberately mimicking the man's earlier treatment of the fork.

Castiel thrust into his mouth, almost but not quite hitting the back of Dean's throat. Right. Dean could do hard and fast. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking as hard as he could. Castiel thrust again, the motion less controlled this time, and Dean had to fight against the gag reflex.

He shifted his lips a little higher on Castiel's cock, deliberately taking back some control. His own cock strained against his jeans, but he was enjoying himself too much to pay much attention.

He had a rhythm going now, moving in time with the thrusts of Castiel's hips. His jaw was starting to ache, but his lips could feel the movement of blood under the skin, and he knew it wouldn't be long now.

He felt a sudden pull in his hair, not enough to hurt but enough to keep him connected to the man he was sucking off. One more thrust and hot salty warmth exploded in his mouth. Dean swallowed it all down and gave a few more gentle swipes of his tongue, easing Castiel through the aftershocks.

He pulled off and looked up. Castiel was leaning against the wall, head thrown back, long neck exposed, eye closed, chest rising and falling in a rapid pant. Dean wanted to kiss and suck that long neck the way Castiel had done to him.

Dean stood up and reached out a gentle hand, wanting to draw the other man in close. However, Castiel opened his eyes, shook his head and matter-of-factly reached down to zip himself up.

At that moment, Dean realized they had just done this in public. Sure, they were in an alley, but anyone could have seen what they just did. He took a step backward, toward his backpack.

"Leaving so soon, Dean?" Castiel's voice followed him. His gaze pointedly dropped to the bulge in Dean's crotch.

Dean flushed, torn between the desire to get off and wanting to get out of a public place.

"You don't want to go home in that state, do you?"

He shook his head. No, but, the mood had shifted from incredibly hot to vaguely embarrassing.

"Look at me, Dean."

He did so, and that electric blue gaze caught him. Suddenly he wasn't sure what he'd been worried about.

"Unzip your pants and take yourself in your hand."

Unable to resist the mesmerizing command, Dean did so. His cock jumped in his hand, and he gave a few hard jerks.

"That's good. It won't take long, will it?"

Dean continued to stroke himself. He closed his eyes, but Castiel immediately said, "No, keep them open. Watch me."

Dean did so. It wasn't even that Castiel did anything special. He was just leaning against his Harley. But in less than a minute, Dean came, spattering over the ground.

Castiel smiled. "Very good."

Dean wasn't sure why, but the praise bloomed warmly in his chest.

Then, Castiel, without a word, straddled his bike and prepared to ride off.

"Wait!" Dean said. Was that it?

Castiel smiled at him. "I'll be back in a week. We can do this again."

And with that he started his bike and began to back out of the alley.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean called after him.

The man stopped for a moment, head tilted in inquiry.

"I'll hold you to that," Dean said.

Cas smiled, the expression clearly communicating _You do that_.

Then he rode off.

Dean smiled. A week wasn't really that long, was it?


End file.
